Fallen Angel
by Jaded Baby
Summary: Rated PG-13 for future possible graphic matter. Grissom and Sara's child, a girl, was supposed to be an angel - oh, yeah, that one worked well.


Disclaimer: Darling, if I owned it, would I be writing fanfiction for it? Didn't think so.

"MAMA!" she screamed. I heard her. I heard my baby calling for me and I couldn't go to her – I couldn't move. "Mama! Help me, I hurt, Mama! He's hurting me, Mama! Make him stop!" I heard a struggle, but I still couldn't go to her. "MAMA!" I heard her shriek before I heard the shot of a gun.

"Katie!" I woke with a start, sitting up fully before I realized it. She was sleeping right next to me, tiny blue eyes closed in angelic sleep, brown hair tucked behind her ears in a messy and makeshift set of pigtails. I panted softly for a moment before I realized he was looking at me from across our tiny girl's sleeping form.

"Sara?" He asked, arm reaching carefully over her to comfort me without disturbing Katie. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Gil." I murmured, still breathing heavily. "Just a nightmare."

"Must have been one hell of a nightmare." He soothed, arm gently caressing my shoulder as I laid my head back down. "It'll be all right, Sara. Nothing will happen to Katie."

"How did you…?" I asked, then realized. "I did say her name, didn't I?"

"You did." He affirmed. "And you were calling her name before you even woke up. Just go to sleep, Sara. Our little girl is going to be perfectly all right. She'll be the sweetest little darling ever, and you know she'll never give us any trouble."

I looked down at my girl, remembering her curiosity in regards to her father's bugs. She was like a tiny, girly form of him; her eyes alight with wonder and already – at six years old – memorizing scientific names.

"You're right." I whispered, gently brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she snuggled closer to me. "She's going to be a perfect little angel when she grows up, Gil, isn't she?"

(Ten Years Later)

"Katherine Amelia Grissom!" Mother let loose a snarl at me when she stalked her way into the police station. "You better be damn glad that I work next door young lady, or else, by God, I'd..."

"Mrs. Grissom!" Officer Haney placed a hand on my shoulder as if to protect me from my tiger of a mother. After she calmed, he added, "Katie didn't do it this time, Sara. She's lived up to her promise to Gil so far. She was a witness, nothing more. She's even turned in her friends that committed the robbery and they even told us she wasn't involved. She was on the security tape too, standing outside minding her own business and chasing a bug. I think she still has it, too, don't you, Katie?"

"Photinus pyralis." I held the jar with the winking lightning bug up for her to see. "The common lightning bug. It's a big one, too. Nearly 2.2 centimeters…" I stopped when mom didn't look less cowed. "I did promise Dad, Mom. I wasn't involved. I didn't even know they were doing it, honest!"

Mom sighed. "Fine, Katie. Well, c'mon. Get that uniform, young lady, and you can show your father. I have fingerprints for you to do." She handed me a uniform and pointed firmly to the nearest bathroom, holding out her hand for the bug jar. "I'll wait right here for you."

I nodded and slipped into the bathroom, trading my cargo jeans, black tank top and grey pinstriped blazer for the uniform of a Las Vegas CSI. I neatly folded my street clothes and then pulled my hair back into a ponytail before slipping back out of the bathroom.

Mom took my clothes and put them in her duffel, then handed me back my bug jar and said, "He's in his office, Kat."

I strode off into the bowels of the CSI unit, running into Warrick, Greg, and Nick on the way. Warrick commented on my hair, and said he liked the streaks. Then, Nick commented on my hair - apparently he also liked the streaks. Greg said the streaks made me look like a hooker and I should get them dyed back. I trust him.

"Dad, can I dye my hair back to brown?" I waltzed into his office, draping myself over the empty corner of his desk that he reserved specifically for my elbows.

"Do you have the money for the dye?" He peered up at me over his glasses.

"Yes." I replied after mentally calculating it in my head.

An eyebrow was raised. "Have you talked to Catherine?"

"No, but I bet as long as she has half an hour she won't mind." I picked at my nail polish, chipping a huge black chunk into the trash. Well, one more thing to do when I got home. Mom will be pleased; it'll 'keep me out of trouble'.

"If it's all right with Catherine, I don't see why not. Didn't you just get it dyed?" Wow. Actually showing that he distinguished between now and when I was in diapers. What an improvement.

"A week ago tomorrow. Greg says the streaks make me look like a hooker."

"You trust Greg?" Dad instantly looked up at me again.

"Yes." I said defensively. Gravely, eyes open wide, I added, "He dates. He knows everything, daddy." I smiled quirkily.

Daddy snorted. "I'm sure, Kat." Looking up and noticing the jar, he inquired, "And what, my little Kat, have you there?"

"Photinus pyralis!" I said gleefully. "Almost 2.2 centimeters long!"

"110 percent of usual size?" He asked, extending his hand for the jar. Gently, the lightning bug was lifted out and set next to a centimeter ruler, held down delicately by the point of a pencil. "Wow, Kat. 2.3 centimeters! Here, let me get him for you and you can add him to the file at home…" He took a thin, sharp pin and effectively and humanely killed the lightning bug. "There. The cards are in the second drawer down, third folder back."

I laughed and pinned the bug carefully to the card, labeling the bottom in my neat handwriting, 'Photinus pyralis – Common Lightning Bug. 2.3 centimeters. 115 percent of usual size of 2 centimeters.' I tucked the card in the box that dad took home every week with all the cool insects I'd found – usually around five or ten – to put in the file at home.

"Well, daddy, I'll see you later, okay?" I started out the door. "Mom's got some prints she apparently wants me to play with."

"Okay, honey." He said, barely looking up from his work. My face fell instantly – that was so like him to ignore me once the bug was gone – but I almost instantly ran into my 'aunt' Catherine.

"Hey-hey, Kitty Kat!" She smiled from ear to ear. Then, wincing playfully, she flipped my ponytail. "Stripper streaks, huh?"

"Greg thought so too." I said ruefully. "Do you think you can help me dye them back to brown, please? I can get the dye, I just need help with the application, and you know that mom has the worst sort of difficulty with that stuff."

"Yeah, we're not even gonna let her go there." She laughed. "Sure. Let's see, you dyed it what, a week ago? You need to give it another week… how about next Saturday?"

"Okay." I said distractedly, looking around. "Hey, Aunt Cat, do you know where…"

"Your mom's in room 134. She's got the Red Creeper, too; she's really excited."

I laughed. "She always is. Thanks, Aunt Cat."

"Welcome, sweetie." She called back as she walked toward trace.

Ambling into room 134, I found my mother bouncing from foot to foot with the little canister of Red Creeper. "Hey mom." I sighed.

"Hi Katie. Ready?" She demanded happily.

"Yeah." I sighed again, walking over to the table and taking the canister before she wet herself. "Let's get this over with."


End file.
